The Quarrel
by Avalas
Summary: Inspired by Gogol's "How the Two Ivans Quarrelled." See Asuka, Shinji, and Misato in this story of human friendship and frailty. Hints of A/S and M/S.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Evangelion, and I don't own any of Nikolai Gogol's works.

Prologue

In the Darkness, the boy spoke. "I just want my life back, ok?"

Chapter 1

When Shinji came to in the all-too-familiar confines of NERV's medical facility, the first thing he saw was Misato's face looking down at him with deep concern. Then, when his eyes regained some focus, he saw at least half a dozen special forces troopers posted all around the room, or, more precisely, all around him. His first reaction was to recoil in shock, sitting up at the head of the bed and proceeding to backpedal himself furiously into the wall. Almost as soon as that happened, Misato moved in closer, grabbed him, and drew him in for a heartfelt embrace that was accompanied with her tears. In the warmth of his guardian's bosom, Shinji relaxed and for the first time in his life joined in with his own tears of joy. The fact that Misato was alive meant that he had succeeded. The date on the calendar read "January 1st, 2016." He was home again.

Well, more or less. Shinji soon found out that in rolling back the Third Impact, he only managed to bring back those who died just prior to or during the Third Impact. He had returned the world to its state just before the Third Impact occurred. Actually, it was just before the detonation of the N2 mine that opened up the Geo-Front. Why the world chose to reset itself to this particular point in time is still a matter of debate, though many (psychologists especially) have resolved this issue by claiming that the young Ikari subconsciously expressed the desire to not have boarded EVA 01 in the first place. This theory gained further credence based on the testimony of Misato Katsuragi, who stated during interrogations that she rescued the pilot and was leading him to his EVA only minutes before the N2 explosion.

While not everyone had been resurrected, Shinji had nonetheless given humanity a second chance. Everyone who came back had been miraculously cured of all ailments and injury. Most of the scientists and lab technicians were now walking around without a scratch, along with the JSSDF troops, who had called off the attack once they realized that the Third Impact had been aborted. Maya, Hyouga, and the rest of the bridge staff were showing official UN inspectors and officers around the facility. A semi-conscious but non-perforated Ritsuko had been fished out of the evaporating LCL pool in the bowels of NERV and was immediately locked up under guard, pending investigation. She had no qualms in agreeing to spill her guts about the full extent of NERV's operation, so before any official observers could arrive on the scene, Gendo died in a mysterious incident involving the "accidental discharge of weapon." He was apparently deemed too dangerous to be left alive. As for Sub-commander Fuyutsuki, he was promptly escorted away on a helicopter and was never heard from again. Shinji didn't know about all this at the time, obviously. He was still caught up in the ecstasy of the moment. For Shinji, there was a feeling of indescribable relief when he saw Touji emerge from his coma. Touji walked on his two feet towards his old friend and greeted him with a firm handshake. He wasn't going to be the only one. All across the world, Shinji later learned, the once-disabled and once-terminally ill reveled in their restored bodies and their restored health. Over the next few months, Shinji would be greeted by random people on the street wanting to shake the hand of the man responsible for their new lease on life.

As for the EVAs, Unit 01 was now a rotting suit of badly damaged armor. With no soul and no AT-Field, there was no possibility of it regenerating. Unit 02 and the MP EVAs had all been ripped to shreds, but fortunately Asuka was rescued from the wreckage unconscious but otherwise fine. Since the EVAs were not exactly Earthly and had been spent in creating the Third Impact, they were not restored along with the rest of the world. Both Lilith and the Adam egg were also gone, and since every working EVA had been destroyed, there was no hope of reviving the EVA project, much less re-initiating the Third Impact. The Human Instrumentality Project was dead as dead. This development completely undermined the once-powerful SEELE council, whose members for the most part went into deep hiding. In addition, NERV also underwent a crisis. Thankfully, this was soon resolved with surprisingly prompt UN intervention, which declared that NERV HQ and the Geo-Front were to be reconstituted as an international research facility. All current NERV employees were to keep their jobs while the transition was being effected--under the strict coordination of the international community, of course. The UN wasn't about to let some of the top minds in the world go to waste, or worse yet go to places where they couldn't monitor them. The Japanese government had originally wanted to seal off the site completely, but they quickly buckled under the collective pressure of the international community when it became public knowledge that they had erred so grossly.

Of course, this meant that Tokyo-3 would have to be rebuilt. The city's center had been thoroughly obliterated and converted into a giant lake, but many outlying regions had been left more or less intact, though with an explosion of that magnitude the zone of damage extended a good five or six kilometers from the lake's edge. This partially damaged area was where the new growth was concentrated. Tokyo-3 became an international construction project that surpassed anything the world had seen as capital and contractors from all over America, Europe, and Asia flooded in, hoping to grab a piece of this new international pie. In addition to reconstruction and expansion of undamaged zones, NERV HQ had to be enlarged and upgraded to accommodate the large numbers of scientists coming in from overseas. Tokyo-3 became one giant, unrelenting construction area, and this time it was reconstructed as a residential center, not as a fortified base or a metropolitan capital. Low-rise apartments and small stores began to pop up all around the lake, which was perhaps the only measure of tranquility in this bustling environment. The din of construction could be heard from morning to night all around the city. By late January, just three weeks after the event, electricity and running water had been restored to the vast majority of the standing buildings. According to government regulations, NERV's employees were forbidden to live outside Tokyo-3 city limits until they were cleared to be discharged by the international investigation committee--that is, if they wanted to be discharged in the first place. It was no secret that most of the NERV researchers wanted to stay on their own accord. Some of the personnel decided to take up residence in NERV HQ and the Geo-Front itself, but most opted out, not wanting to be under constant surveillance. They set themselves up in structures on the city's outskirts and were the first to reclaim the abandoned city. Soon, however, Tokyo-3 experienced a massive wave of immigration from all over Japan. For the most part, this was a working class movement promoted by a combination of low rents and job availability. The city was beginning to live again.

While all this feverish activity was going on, a sense of normalcy began to creep back into people's lives. Asuka woke up with seemingly stable and competent mental faculties and together with Shinji reconstituted the strained Katsuragi familial unit. Both Asuka and Shinji agreed to continue living with Misato, more out of concern for the major than out of concern for their own well being. In fact, living with Misato probably had more detrimental effects, especially for Shinji, who resumed his regimen of cooking and cleaning for the slovenly beauty. They relocated to a small abandoned condo in the suburbs, since their old apartment was in the process of being picked apart by government inspectors. Not that any of them really wanted to live there again, since the place stirred too many unpleasant memories. Misato was still taking Kaji's death hard, and for the first couple of weeks she senselessly drowned herself in booze.

In part, she resented Shinji for not bringing Kaji back to life, though as the weeks went by, that feeling lessened. The presence of Shinji and Asuka in her daily life went far in easing her along the path of healing. She was further aided by the fact that she had recently taken up a job with a defense contractor located on the outskirts of the city. This gave her a renewed sense of duty and a way to distance herself from the past. Gone were the miniskirt and heels; she cropped her hair at the neck and changed her standard attire to a conservative business dress. Shinji didn't protest to and even encouraged this change, for playing businesswoman helped Misato develop some of the discipline she needed to restore order to her life. In addition, for Shinji this significantly reduced the number of awkward incidents in the Katsuragi residence. Still, despite this, she was the Misato he knew so well. Her cooking was still about as lethal as toxic waste, and when given the opportunity, she could still drink anyone under the table. She could still make a mess, but for the most part Shinji didn't have to pick up after her as much as before.

Asuka and Shinji resumed their classes in early March, about two months after the aborted Third Impact. Since the old school had closed due to a lack of students, the children transferred to a school in a remote suburb. To compensate for the increased distance, they were provided transportation via a government cab, which was also a convenient way for the government to keep tabs on the pilots. At school, the Second and Third Child met with a number of old faces. Their immediate circle of friends was restored, though this time it was supplemented by a slightly more extroverted Rei. She too had been resurrected, but she had been held as a biological specimen until mid-April, poked and prodded by eager scientists around the globe. She was probably released after these frustratingly mundane investigations yielded few significant results.

Rei still kept largely to herself, but she began to get along better with other students, not hesitating to drop a smile every now and then. She even began calling people by their first names, which was a welcome change for nearly everyone. Otherwise, it was the same old same old. Classes resumed, Touji resumed his role as the block-headed but sensitive bully, Kensuke was still the martial fetishist, and Hikari still had a penchant for block-headed but sensitive bully types. Shinji and Asuka were still held in high regard by their peers--not for piloting EVAs, since there were no EVAs left to pilot, but as general heroes of humanity. As the events leading up to the Third Impact were not privy to the public, none of their schoolmates knew what exactly Shinji and Asuka did in those final moments, though several photographers did confirm that it was Unit 01 suspended in the sky at the end. In any case, everyone regarded the two (and to a lesser extent, Rei) with a measure of respect, and though Shinji tried to downplay his role in his typical modesty, Asuka took the opportunity to stroke her ego. However, it was all in good faith, so she never came across as excessively arrogant.

Indeed, Shinji found himself stepping up to fill the hefty shoes of his public image. He pursued life with a newfound determination. Though by high school he still ranked far below average in terms of social skills, his academics were steadily improving and he was truly beginning to feel at home. With so many approving faces everywhere, he was simply no longer afraid of people.

"Such a fine boy is that Shinji Ikari," people would say. "Always polite, humble, and gentle," they would add. And occasionally, parents would tell unruly children to be more like Shinji. A small new-age cult even sprung up dedicated to worshipping Shinji as a messiah. Of course, everyone--and yes, dear reader, I do mean everyone, even the press--took care to refrain from such comments in Shinji's presence, lest they offend the boy's humble sensibilities. Shinji, or at least the perceived image of Shinji Ikari the Hero, was a held up as a shining ideal of humanity. For the weary but slowly returning citizens of Tokyo-3, he represented a bright hope for better times to come.

Also celebrated was Asuka, who took to her new public image with style and exuberance. Being regarded as a role model for small children everywhere (on account of her academic achievement and ambition) somewhat tempered her anger-prone disposition, though she didn't hesitate to speak her mind. The thing now was that it was mostly confined to words and rarely trespassed into the realm of physical violence. It was a welcome change for Shinji, who had been at the receiving end of 99 of Asuka's slaps, punches, and kicks. Well, he still was, though the blows were far reduced in frequency and intensity.

Of course, that's not all that people celebrated. More than Shinji and Asuka as individuals, people held in high esteem the deep friendship that had developed between the two children. The experience of celebrity had drawn the two together, and their evolving personalities complemented with each other well. Asuka, whom Shinji had hitherto regarded as an enraged bitch, began to ease up on him. Shinji, who for Asuka used to be an indecisive, whiny bitch, was for once showing the assertiveness she liked to see in men. Not too much, mind you, but enough to give him a chance. The fact that he saved humanity wasn't too shabby either. This is not to say that they agreed with each other all the time or even most of the time. On one side was Shinji, a more or less reticent, polite fellow who was never too good at anything other than cooking and playing cello. On the other side was Asuka, a girl who had graduated from college already and was attending school in Japan merely for shits and giggles and to participate in the social life she had missed out on in her prodigy years. One was quiet and prone to deliberation. Ironically, the other, smarter one was always moved to flamboyant action. One would always chide the other playfully, and in this manner their friendship was much like a balancing act, each end serving to soften the other's more extreme tendencies. The friendship was remarkable to all who saw it, especially to those who had no idea of the sordid happenings within NERV and the Geo-Front; to them it appeared to be something straight out of fairy tales.

Well, in some ways the fairy tale analogy would be correct, for Shinji and Asuka became friends like few had ever seen. By the time high school had started, people began to say that the two children were bound together with an invisible cord. Where one went, the other was sure to show up. Usually, though, they just walked side-by-side, giving all who saw them a sense of warmth. This arrangement had an added benefit for Shinji, for Asuka was far more observant than he. By walking alongside her, he could be warned of various obstacles: a muddy puddle, a sharp chunk of debris, or an angry stray dog. Somehow he tended to miss these things in his usual absentminded strolling, which led to a number of unsightly and embarrassing accidents. Usually, if the harm wasn't too great, this was followed by Asuka's playful "Shinji the Idiot" teasing.

The question on everyone's mind was, however, were these two children apparently joined at the hip more than friends? Well, aside from all the rampant speculation regarding this issue, I could assert that in my own definitive opinion that they were not. At least, not at this point. Perhaps. Maybe, well, let me put it this way. It was pretty obvious that they couldn't remain friends forever the way they were going. They were as close as two friends could possibly be, and seeing how they were both relatively free of homoerotic tendencies, it was only a matter of time before a spark of love lit the kindling. So, in the fall of 2016, people were just counting the days before these two fell into each other's passionate embrace. Ceteris paribus, this was the only logical conclusion, right?

On the 3rd of December, almost a year after the incident, Shinji was sitting at his desk in his high school. Attending school here really made the boy question what he was missing out on when he enrolled in that hellhole of a Tokyo-3 junior high. His learning experience there consisted of ignoring the thousand-and-one lectures the teacher gave on why the Second Impact was the most horrible event in human history. No, here he actually learned things that he could conceivably care about--literature, music, and certain sciences. In fact, he wanted to join the school orchestra but was prevented by the UN. Carpooling him to school was enough of a stretch as it was, and they weren't about to tack on chauffeuring him to after-school rehearsals. Regardless, he was happy. He had his friends all around him. Asuka sat to his left, Kensuke to his right, Rei to his front, and Touji directly behind him. Thus, sitting there contentedly, Shinji was completely oblivious to the sequence of events about to unfold. Little did he suspect that a spanner would soon be thrown into the gears of his carefully crafted homeostasis.

The bell chimed, signaling the end of school. After the students had left the room, Shinji & co. formed up in the hallway. In particular, Touji looked especially happy; in fact, he was obscenely happy, which left the coterie wondering why. "What is it, Touji? You've been wearing that grin for the entire day," Shinji asked.

Producing a folded sheet of paper from his pocket, he hastily unfolded it and thrust it into Shinji's face. "Aw yeah, bitch! Read it and weep!"

The coterie crowded around Shinji and stared at the document.

"You're getting discharged?" Asuka asked.

"Why!" cried Kensuke, the ever-obsessed military fanboy.

"I'm glad for you," said Rei with the most imperceptible of smiles.

Hikari just stood there blushing, too happy for words.

"Dude, you don't realize how great this is. I only took that shitty job so that my sister could get a better health plan. Now that she's healed, I don't have to whore my soul for the man no more!" Then, to everyone's amusement, he broke into a crude victory dance, complete with several pumping motions accompanied by exclamations of "Yes! Yes! Yes!"

"I don't see why you have to get discharged," Kensuke moped while staring at the floor. He began to trace lazy circles upon the tiles with the tip of his right shoe.

"Aww, pssh, whatever. Been there, done that, and it ain't all that."

"Where are you going to do now?" Shinji inquired.

"I'm moving out of the city to the burbs on the south side. Don't worry. I'll be staying in this school, and no matter what, we'll always be friends."

Unable to contain her excitement over the prospect of Touji moving closer to her, Hikari asked, "When are you moving?"

"My folks are coming tomorrow, and then I'm getting the hell out--"

Perhaps unwilling to admit to herself that she would miss Touji as a neighbor, Asuka interrupted in defense of the city. "Come off it, blockhead. The city's gonna be back up better than before, and you know it!"

"I do like it," Shinji admitted. "It's always...full of life."

"But it's not for me. Call me a hopeless romantic, but I always liked the wide, open spaces." He stood there with left arm extended, palm facing upwards in a dramatic flourish. "Besides, my kid sister prefers it there."

"All I can say is that we're all happy for you," Shinji said, smiling warmly. These days, he was no longer uncomfortable expressing happiness. "Say, Touji, since Asuka's birthday is tomorrow, why don't you come over and celebrate with us? You deserve a sending-off party."

"Man, you're the best!" Touji caught Shinji in a playful headlock. "I was going to come for Asuka anyway, but as they say, the more party, the better, eh?"

Thus the coterie dissolved into their respective homes in high spirits. Tomorrow was Sunday. It was also Asuka's birthday and Touji's last day in Tokyo-3. This combination granted this 4th of December a certain gravity that most days of the year lacked. To put it lightly, Shinji was looking forward to it.

AN: Personally, I hate leaving these things, as I believe works should speak for themselves, but in this case I do feel that some explanation is in order. This story--may the gods of literature forgive me--a transcription of the Nikolai Gogol classic short story "How the Two Ivans Quarreled" into the Evaversse. Please, do read that story as it is far better than anything I can come up with on my meager talents. Nonetheless, I think it will be an interesting ride.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The new Katsuragi residence was noticeably bigger than the old apartment and was very nearly sandwiched between two other houses of identical design. There were trees crowded all around this closely packed agglomeration of houses. In that small, forested space, there were eight homes in all. All but one of the inhabitants had fled during the course of the angel attacks, hastily liquidating their property to the bank in the process. After the "incident," these homes were then sold to NERV employees and newcomers at a discount. As of December 2016, seven of the eight houses were occupied by NERV or former-NERV personnel, and the remaining one stayed the decade-long home of an old college professor and his wife. When Misato, Shinji, and Asuka first arrived, they found the houses with only superficial damage--a few large cracks in the whitewashed wooden siding and a few broken windows here and there. It wasn't anything major. Within a couple of months all this was repaired, and the subdivision began to look much like it did before the angel attacks. Asuka preferred her new home's spaciousness. Each home consisted of two stories, with three bedrooms on the upper level and the kitchen, dining, and living rooms on the lower. Shinji enjoyed the illusory seclusion that the trees conferred. Even though other subdivisions were a stone's throw away, he couldn't see them and liked it that way. As for Misato, well, she was just glad to be away.

That fourth of December, that momentous day, began with auspicious tidings. Shiji awoke with the sunrise, to the radiant hue it imparted upon the treetops. Ever since the Second Impact had done a number on the Earth's rotational axis, eliminating the seasons altogether, the nights never became long enough to stimulate the production of phytochrome in perennial plants. Not that there was a need to, seeing that there was no winter to necessitate a phytochrome-induced winter dormancy period. Shinji had read in books that in the days before the Second Impact, tree leaves during the waning months of the year turned all manner of dazzling yellows, oranges, and reds. Since that was no longer possible, this glow of sunrise was probably the closest he'd ever get to such a sight. A pity, he told himself as he pulled the curtains closed and headed downstairs to the kitchen. It was pretty much an established law of nature that the vast majority of the cooking skill in the Katsuragi residence lay with Shinji. Asuka could produce bland but edible fare from time to time, but by and large everyone (including Shinji himself) preferred to eat Shinji's food. Today, he would have to prepare a feast for all the guests.

As all good days should be, it was sunny, cool, and dry. A gentle breeze rustled the treetops outside. Shinji left Asuka's birthday feast simmering and baking while he went and opened the sliding glass porch door, letting the breeze enter and displace the heated air of the kitchen. Then, after checking the timer on his watch, he plopped down on the sofa before the TV, turning it on with an instinctive reach for the remote control. He was greeted with a barrage of advertisements, but he said to himself, "Ehh, whatever," and lay down, locking his fingers behind his head to serve as a headrest. Indeed, he was genuinely happy these days, since everything was going so well for him--friends, school, Misato, his life in general. What more could he ask for? Of course, deep down he knew the answer to that question, but he wasn't quite ready to admit that to himself yet.

Misato awoke to the smell of fish simmering on the stove and smiled. Shinji was such a responsible boy, she thought. If it weren't for him, she didn't know how she could have coped. Eight months ago, she had been an emotional wreck. In those days, her thoughts were always dominated by the traumas of the past, and she was beginning to develop somniphobia on account of her distressing nightmares. Shinji, on the other hand, appeared in all respects to have emerged from the ordeal a better human being. He now approached life with a quiet perseverance, determined to live it better than he had done so before. It was only through his lead that Misato escaped her prison of emotional masochism. She found a new job, felt happier, drank less, and cleaned up after herself a bit more. Like the Second Impact, after which she had gone from recluse to drunken slut under Ritsuko's tutelage, the Third Impact represented a similar paradigm shift for her. She finally realized the futility of drowning out misery in senseless hedonism. From Shinji's example, she finally took her own advice about not running away.

When getting dressed, she at first reached for a neglected pair of short shorts that had been discarded haphazardly on her floor. However, when she realized that the Touji's parents would probably come over as well, she paused. She wouldn't want them to think the wrong way about her, would she? She headed down the stairs to find the food cooking and Shinji vegging to the TV news. "Mind if I sit down?" she asked him.

"Sure." He sat up and scooted to one end of the sofa. "Isn't today your off day?"

"Yes, yes, I am," she replied smugly as she climbed over the back of the sofa and dropped down on the cushion. Misato's face appeared on the TV screen. It was in a news story about the construction accident that had occurred at the company other day, and this particular segment had her being interviewed about it. Needless to say, she knew her own words and didn't really care one way or another about them. However, she did appreciate the image she conveyed--conservative, controlled, and proper. Really, it was only a minor accident. No one got killed, and the injured were given on-site treatment by her company's medics. Nevertheless, these small incidents contributed greatly to her satisfaction with her new job. This job carried no grand machinations, no undue excitement, just day-to-day security in a low-priority research complex. It was a refreshing change from Director of Tactical Operations back in NERV.

Shinji and Misato sat there, mostly silent save for occasional comments on the news. "Hmm, I never realized," "that's ridiculous," and "what do you predict?" were just some of their inconsequential utterances. The content wasn't as important as the fact that they enjoyed each other's company.

"Morning!" came a bright voice rapidly descending the stairs.

"Morning!" came the response, in unison.

Normally, Asuka made it a point to get up before everyone else, but this day was her birthday, so she afforded herself the minor indulgence of sleeping in late. Going to the kitchen, she naturally examined the contents of the pots and pans. She smiled approvingly as the aromas wafted into her nostrils. In one large pan, fish was simmering slowly in soy sauce. Another was filled with shaved beef, apparently for sukiyaki, seeing how a cutting board of the appropriate vegetables was sitting on the counter. In the oven, a western-style cake was baking. Since eating these dishes is much more fun than describing them, I won't waste more time and words discussing them for the reader's benefit. Suffice it to say that Asuka was very pleased.

Not only that, but one could say that like her two companions, Asuka was very pleased with her life in general. In those final minutes before the Third Impact, she had finally come to terms with the deepest scar in her life--the memory of her mother. Though she was sad that her mother was never coming back, meeting her for the last time really helped lay this matter to rest in her heart. Her mother wanted her to live. An oppressive weight had been lifted from her shoulders. No more EVAs, no more tests, no more stress over saving the human race. Now she could rightfully bask in the light of her own heroic glory. Full of shit are those who say that getting there's half the fun; no one ever sees cancer patients enjoying chemotherapy. Likewise, Asuka really didn't like her days as a pilot. The excessively competitive attitude she always displayed to Shinji back then was a coping mechanism. Unfortunately, in the process she brainwashed herself into thinking EVA to be the sole measure of her self-worth. Now, that was gone. Now, she began each day by smiling at herself in the bathroom mirror, thinking or in some instances saying out loud, "Asuka, you're the best!" As for her companions, Misato had become like an older sister to her. Shinji--well, Shinji was her best friend in the world. She had been blind back then, but now she realized that the Third Child was a kind, sensitive soul who cared deeply for the people in his life. Let the reader note that this was only Asuka's opinion constructed from the facts she knew, but perception is what's important, and for all intents and purposes Asuka's life was ideal. What more could she want? Like Shinji, she unconsciously knew the answer to that.

The first group of guests, consisting Touji, Kensuke, and the latter's father, arrived at about ten in the morning, about an hour after Asuka woke up. Normally, as a rule parents shouldn't come to the birthday parties of their children's friends, but the two living legends living in this house changed all that. Shinji had expected this and had arranged it this way, for Asuka truly enjoyed the attention people gave her. For birthday presents, Kensuke had brought a new gaming console and Touji a set of half a dozen games to go with it. As Asuka was busy unpacking these things, Touji took one look at the conservatively-dressed woman and leaned in close to Shinji's ear, whispering, "Shinji, I'm disappointed."

"What, are you kidding?" Kensuke interjected incredulously.

"Kensuke, your idea of hot is a leathery muscle chick who could rip us all in half."

"Shh, guys, she's coming."

Misato greeted the guests graciously and attempted conversation, though after only a few minutes it was pretty clear that no one except Kensuke was interested in talking to her. Asuka, wanting to test out her gift, challenged Touji to play her in a fighting game. Furious control pad mashing and frenzied taunting soon commenced in front of the TV. As for Kensuke's father, they followed Shinji into the kitchen, obviously eager to bug the young hero. That left Misato with Kensuke. She did her best to entertain him, showing him some "toys" she had brought back from the company, but damnit, the boy was frustrating. Soon the conversation devolved into an argument over the merits of M43 vs .223. It wasn't something that Misato cared to debate, but it was one of the few things Kensuke seemed to be passionate about. Fortunately, it wasn't the only thing he cared about. When Rei arrived lugging a large potted plant, it was amazing how quickly the boy's attentions shifted. It was pretty clear that Kensuke was beginning to develop affections for the girl. Misato relieved Rei of her burden and set it down beside the sliding glass porch door while the children went to play video games in the living room.

Meanwhile, Shinji had his hands full in the kitchen. Kensuke's father, who bore an uncanny and disturbing resemblance to his son, would not leave him alone. He would compliment Shinji incessantly and tell him about his seemingly incurable eczema that Shinji managed to cure. To that, the boy could only grumble to himself that it was too much information. Still, despite these annoyances, he seemed to be a very fine gentleman, and his presence really made Shinji wonder what it would have been like to have a "normal" relationship with his father. Obviously, Shinji had no experience in this, having been shuffled around in foster homes as a kid before falling in with Misato. To a superficial observer, Misato could have represented the mother/father-combo single parent figure in his life, but the truth of the matter was that he spent more time taking care of her than vice versa.

Only minutes after Rei's arrival, Hikari finally arrived, coming alone by bus because neither of her sisters cared enough to drive her. She brought with her a stack of Japanese classics, which Asuka had begun to enjoy reading in recent months. She also brought along a special visitor: Pen-Pen, Misato's old warm water penguin. The bird was so fond of living with Hikari that Misato didn't have the heart to take him back. Crouching down and holding her arms outstretched, Misato said sweetly, "Come here, Pen-Pen."

Unfortunately, the bird just ignored her and went to the living room, where he watched Asuka and the others battle each other in Brutal Fury Extreme 3.

"Selfish bastard."

As soon as the food was done, they all sat down to eat. Kensuke's father complimented Shinji's culinary talents once again and remarked that he would be a fine catch for any woman. To this comment Asuka blushed profusely. Only minutes into the meal, however, Misato's cell rang. Just seconds after she picked it up and answered, the high spirits she carried that morning were dampened. Her presence was required at work. To require her presence on a Sunday meant that something big was happening, and she didn't much like the thought of that. Not wanting to alarm the children, she put on the brightest grin she could manage and told them, "Excuse me. I'll have to go to work for a bit. Have to hold their hand at every step, sheesh. Take it from here, Shinji." She then wolfed down several large mouthfuls of beef and rice before lacing up her boots, gathering her gear, and scurrying out the door.

In the interests of not boring the reader to death with irrelevant details, I will not be describing what occurred during the birthday party itself. I will not describe the various instances where Kensuke and Hikari caused great embarrassment to themselves in attempts to close in on the objects of their affections. I will not describe Shinji's well-praised performance of various excerpts from Bach's cello suites. I will not even describe how Touji's parents arrived just when the meal had ended and how they had to make do with leftovers. No doubt the reader has had many birthday celebrations that were extremely fun to experience but rather boring to talk about afterwards. Therefore, I will not discuss this further.

At about two in the afternoon, the guests began leaving. Touji was the last to leave, and Shinji found himself standing at the front door to say his goodbyes. When they shook hands, Shinji was reminded of his first EVA battle, a battle in which Touji's younger sister had been critically injured by a collapsing building. Come to think of it, he hadn't seen Touji's younger sister even once, before or after the Third Impact. It was at precisely this moment that Shinji was overcome with a tidal wave of sentimentality. In future generations, philosophers pontificating on the nature of human stupidity would cite what Shinji was about to do this day as a key example. Swept up in the moment, Shinji took the small antique music box he had been planning to give to Asuka after the party and handed it to Touji, telling him that it was for his little sister. Over the course of the day, Shinji had been feeling increasingly uneasy about his original choice of gift. Music boxes were for little kids, hardly appropriate for one such as Asuka, Shinji had been telling himself. He should get a more appropriate gift for her, one that wouldn't offend her, as she liked it when people regarded her as an adult. She was a college graduate, after all, and she hated to be treated like a kid. Misato's present had been a steel analog watch with a black leather strap--very stylish. It was something that he could not hope to match. He weighed those points against the fact that the walnut music box was a very fine piece and quite a collector's item, and it was this internal debate that made him put off the presentation of his gift until after the party. However, at this moment, he let the thought of Touji's sister drive him to a rash decision. Touji accepted the gift graciously with his usual compliments, not suspecting that this was probably not wisest action on the part of his friend. Indeed, denying one's potential girlfriend her birthday gift--even a less-than-ideal birthday gift--would rank highly on a list of completely boneheaded things to do. At the very least, this antique could have expressed Shinji's thought and concern for his best friend. As the jock rode away in the backseat of his parents' van with Hikari and Pen-Pen, he thought he heard some shouting coming from Shinji's.

What he heard but couldn't make out was Asuka screaming, "Shinji, you idiot!" followed by a fierce right hand slap. That in turn was followed by Asuka charging up the stairs and into her room, burying herself face-first in her bed. She wondered why she had exploded so violently, obsessing over this small gift when Shinji had already done so much for her already. The fact that he voluntarily handled most of the household chores every day without so much the slightest fuss was a measure that she could not even begin to repay. He took such good care of her and Misato, and this...minor concern didn't completely justify her reaction. "What am I feeling?" she asked herself in a whisper. From downstairs, Shinji was beginning to realize just how much he had screwed up. However, he wasn't about to let that get him down. "I'll make it up to you, I swear!" he shouted before running out the door. He was going to buy Asuka another gift in order to extricate himself from this hole he had just dug.

The first thing Shinji did when he arrived at the waterfront was to visit the local boat rental. The man who owned the rental was an old fisherman from Hokkaido named Senichi Ito. He was only into his 50s, but his graying hair and wispy beard gave him a sage-like appearance, an appearance that no doubt gave him the appearance of respectability. Shinji had become somewhat of a regular face at his place. The boy loved the lake, for it was the oasis of tranquility in the midst of a ring of construction. The calm waters of the lake never failed to soothe his nerves.

Not today. Today, after handing the money over to Mr. Ito, he hopped into the nearest rowboat and started rowing furiously towards the other side. He probably set a personal best for traversing the lake that day, though the realization didn't once enter his mind. He was solely focused on getting to the antique shop on the other side. It was the same antique shop from which he had bought the music box, and he did remember seeing some affordable pieces of jewelry there. He hoped that they were still there. Thankfully, the gods of fortune didn't desert him. By four in the afternoon, he was re-traversing the lake with a silver and turquoise pendant in his possession.

Shinji had been feeling so sure of himself that he laid the pendant down on the bottom of the boat. That way, he could admire his accomplishment as he rowed. It didn't occur to him that he was about to pay dearly for it. In natural settings, shiny objects tend to attract the attentions of all manner of wild animals. In this case, a curious seagull landed on the boat's keel. It poked its head about, looking every which way before dropping down. Shinji's blood nearly froze as the inquisitive bird picked up the pendant with its beak. He stopped rowing. He had only one chance, and he went for it, lunging at the seagull in a desperate attempt to pin it down. He wasn't even close; the only thing he managed to do was to catapult himself over the edge of the boat.

It took about a minute of wild thrashing before Shinji finally managed to pull himself out of the water. By that time, he had already lost a shoe and bruised his ankle, and the bird was already in the distance with a small, glimmering object dangling from its beak. Shinji was simply too dumbstruck to give any sort of reaction. There was no way he was going back there, seeing how he had spent almost all of his money on that seagull's new toy. He collapsed to the bottom of his rowboat and just stared blankly across the tranquil waters. It was very nearly six by the time the boat drifted its way back to shore. In the waning sunlight, Shinji trudged home in ignominious defeat, soaked and barefoot. He didn't know what he was going to do now. Even the fact that he narrowly escaped drowning was of little comfort to him.

The sound of Touji's voice on the answering machine greeted the fallen hero when he opened the door. Almost instinctively, Shinji rushed towards the phone in the kitchen. He did not bother getting a dry change of clothes, though by that time his shirt and pants were half dry anyway. "Hey, Touji," he said. Try as he might, he could not manage a happy tone of voice.

"You don't sound so hot, man. Are you ok?"

"I guess I will be." Shinji yanked off his holed socks and tossed them into the wastebasket.

"What happened?"

"Bunch of crap, really. I'll tell you about it tomorrow."

"You're sure you're ok? I thought I heard some screaming when we were driving off this afternoon."

"Oh," Shinji answered, suddenly and painfully reminded of his previous blunder. Of course, the consequences of that earlier mistake were small potatoes when compared to the results of what he said next. "That was Asuka. She can be as scrappy as a goose sometimes."

Unbeknownst to Shinji, Asuka had been standing by the door to the kitchen, just out of sight, overhearing every word that was being said. She had come down the stairs to answer the phone, but Shinji obviously beat her to it. At the mention of the word "goose," every muscle in her body involuntarily tightened. Of all the things in the world, being called a goose was something that she absolutely could not stand. She hated it. Despised it. It was something that made her want to claw someone's eyes out. For three torturous years in elementary school, "goose" had been her official nickname. She was called that in the halls, in class, and even on the playground. "Hey, goose-girl!" the boys would tease her. "Goose! Goose! Goose!" the girls would shout as they played tag on the playground. That continued until the third grade, when they finally let her skip elementary school altogether. All conscious reasoning went to the wayside as Asuka's thoughts drifted to the past, to those (at least in her mind) hellish years. Once the initial shock subsided, Asuka found herself gripped with an uncontrollable rage. She was not responsible for what happened next. Well, in retrospect, perhaps, but the important thing is that at the time she didn't think so--not that she was capable of rational thought in her condition.

"Touji, I'll tell you about it to--aaaaaahhh!" Shinji didn't even get to finish his sentence when Asuka delivered a sharp kick to the back of his right knee. His legs buckled, and he collapsed to the floor.

"Talking about me, are you?"

"No, Asuka, pl--" was all he managed to get out before a second kick caught him in the side at the base of the rib cage, disrupting the motion of his diaphragm. From there, he didn't stand a chance. Asuka pummeled him relentlessly. All he could do was to curl up as best as he could and try to absorb the blows.

On the other end of the receiver, Touji listened in stunned silence.

-

Misato returned at just before one. The day had been a hairy one indeed. Some jackass from company HQ had decided to grace the Tokyo-3 branch of Kirishima Industries with his personal presence, only to announce that the CEO was considering a plan to sell off the complex and its equipment to an interested American buyer. She had just settled on this life, and already it was fixing to be taken away from her. She was upset, and so were most of her staff when they found out that the buyout plan involved massive layoffs and restructuring. With everything in her life so perfect, this was the last thing she needed.

When she entered, she noticed that everything was dark. She then turned on the light. Shinji's and Asuka's shoes were at the door, so she figured that they had gone to bed already. She then did a double take over Shinji's one wet shoe. Odd, she thought to herself. She didn't dwell on that thought, though, since she had a much more pressing matter to address. Damnit, she needed a drink. For the most part, she had cut back noticeably on her alcohol intake, largely due to the positive home environment that the kids, namely Shinji, provided. Her need for booze was inversely correlated with her overall happiness level. However, the events of the day were a bit too much even for her new, well-adjusted attitude.

As she was walking to the kitchen, she noticed the blinking red light on the answering machine. Every time she saw that thing blink, it made her freeze mid-step. She still hadn't gotten over that one, ever since Kaji had left her that farewell message. Cautiously, she pushed play.

"This is Touji. I'm hoping that everything's fine with you, Shinji. Oh, yeah, my little sister absolutely adored your gift. Thanks, man..."

How big-hearted of him, Misato thought, smiling. She really needed something like this to give her a nice fuzzy feeling after the day she just had. When Shinji picked up the receiver and started speaking, second thoughts began to creep into the picture.

"I guess I will be... I'll tell you about it tomorrow..."

Somehow, Misato had the feeling that something was horribly wrong.

"Aaaaaahhh!"

With that one scream, Misato's feeling transformed itself into one of abject horror. Between the dull whacks and thuds of Asuka's blows and Shinji's coughing and whimpering, Misato's realm of domestic happiness was crushed to a pulp. She didn't need a drink. She needed to fucking drink. Without even checking to see if Shinji was all right, she grabbed a bottle of sake from the kitchen and sat down in front of the TV. Soon enough, she succumbed to a combination of drunkenness, exhaustion, and infomercial-induced boredom.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Historians by and large hate to debate the "what ifs," "maybes,' and "could have beens," though they seldom hesitate to point out key causes and relationships. Anyone could agree that such critical factors, had they been altered, would have produced drastically different results. However, in the interests of preserving the realm of history, the past is held sacred and inviolate. To avoid upsetting the sensibilities of the so inclined, I will merely discuss the facts thus far. Shinji, in a moment of clouded judgment, managed to give his friend Asuka's birthday present to his other friend Touji's little sister. This upset the girl greatly, but it was by no means the first time Shinji did something to piss her off; it was by no means the first time they quarreled. I would even venture to say that there was a possibility of reconciliation, as evidenced in the results of their previous fights. Up to this point, every dispute they had had was largely resolved within hours of its conception and quickly forgotten. Most of the time, this involved Shinji backing down in the face of a more aggressive Asuka, but that's beside the point. The fact remains that Shinji and Asuka were not the types to hold grudges against each other. It was the phone call from Touji that could be identified as the turning point, so to speak. An already edgy Asuka did not need to be reminded of the present that was rightfully hers, nor did she need to be pushed over the edge by an inadvertent reference to her most hated childhood taunt. But that's exactly what happened. The night ended with a fuming Asuka and a battered Shinji in their beds and a drunk Misato passed out on the sofa.

Some have entertained the notion that a reconciliation was possible as early as the very next day if and only if certain events hadn't acted to the contrary. While this is just another "what if" scenario subject to controversy and debate, one could still safely say that what happened the next day did nothing to mend the situation.

That morning, Misato awakened on the floor to the whistle of the water-pot. Given the amount of alcohol she consumed last night, it was quite amazing that her bladder didn't feel distended to the point of bursting. Apparently she had gotten conscious enough sometime earlier to stagger her way to the bathroom and collapse on the floor behind the sofa during the return trip. Rolling over, she felt a blanket covering her. She figured that to have been Shinji's doing, since there was no way she could have thought of it in her state. Tentatively, she surveyed her surroundings. The room was dark, unnaturally so, for the curtains on all the windows had been pulled closed. She knew it was day from the tiny streams of light that managed to slip between the folds, and she was again thankful that Shinji had the sense to do what she didn't or couldn't. The whistle grew louder. "Ah shit," she muttered as she pulled herself up by gripping the back of the sofa. When she was upright (or as upright as possible while hunched over the sofa for support), she heard footsteps descending the stairs in a hobbling 1-2 rhythm.

Upon hearing this obviously limping gait, Misato's mind returned to the memory of last night. She really felt ill, and she collapsed to the floor in a hungover daze, not snapping out of it until Shinji stood over her, leaning down to offer her a mug of warm water. "Thanks," she whispered hoarsely while attempting a smile that succeeded about halfway.

"You should watch yourself," Shinji told her, eyeing the discarded sake bottle in the corner next to the TV.

"Me? You know me. Just give me a few, and I'll be fine. Worry about yourself, brooding over me like this. You'll be late for school." She started to chug the water down.

"Umm, it's ten o'clock."

It took a few moments for this piece of information to sift through the barrier of Misato's hangover, but once it did, she sprang to action instantly. "I'm late!" she cried as she leapt to her feet, almost choking on the water in the process. Unfortunately, at precisely that moment she was hit with a massive throb of pain on the side of her head, no doubt brought about by her body's rapid displacement. This caused her to lose balance and plow into Shinji's shoulder, sending the two of them to the floor. While Misato was relatively unharmed, Shinji was twitching in agony.

"They called...I said...you were sick," Shinji said in labored breaths.

"Are--are you ok?" Of course he's not ok, you idiot, Misato scolded herself.

"I will be."

'I will be.' The phrase only served to remind Misato of what had happened the previous night. She froze in place, halfway in the process of getting up. That was it in her mind. She had to see for herself; she had to know. "You aren't going to pull that on me!" she said right before descending upon him with the intention of pulling up his shirt. Shinji did his best to roll away, but he could do little in his weakened state. Within just a few seconds, the boy's midsection was laid bare, and what a sight it was. Bruises in mottled greens and purples ran down almost the entire right side of his torso, particularly along the rib cage, where Asuka's kicks were concentrated. His left side was untouched, as he was able to protect it by snuggling up against the base of the kitchen counter. Upon seeing the damage, Misato's fears were confirmed, and her moment of determination faded into shock and then into despair. She retreated a few steps and slumped down behind the sofa once more.

Shinji straightened out his shirt and stood up slowly. "I'll cook something, ok?" He started to back away with an ostensibly forced smile.

Misato only nodded. As Shinji went to the kitchen, Misato lay down and pulled the blanket over her head. No, she didn't want to get up today. Not at all. Still, she couldn't help but think. How could this have happened? How could such a thing be conceivable in the perfectly happy microcosm of her home? With such thoughts, Misato eventually succumbed to her drowsiness.

It was about half past two when she woke up again. With the symptoms of hangover reduced, Misato immediately felt a ravenous hunger and thirst. The first thing she did was to run to the kitchen and open the sink's tap over her mouth. After her thirst was sufficiently appeased, she scanned the counters for food. Shinji, after all, did say that he was going to cook. Come to think of it, she thought, where is Shinji? Then she saw it--a note written in neat black letters on a yellow post-it affixed to the refrigerator door. "Gone for a walk. Porridge is on the stove," she muttered, reading aloud to herself.

Walk? Where would Shinji go for a walk? That's right, the lake. He loves the lake, doesn't he? she mused, smiling faintly. Then, her lips slowly parted in horror as a realization dawned upon her. The image of Shinji's single wet shoe came to her, indelible, burning itself into her eyes. "Oh no!"

-

Meanwhile, Asuka's torturous school day was nearing its end. She had left earlier that morning without bothering to wake Shinji up--or more precisely, she was afraid to wake him up. How could she face him after what she had done? Granted, Shinji's stupidity did much to provoke her, but her response was far and above what was necessary, and she was mentally kicking herself for it the entire day. In class, she just put her head down on the desk and scribbled circles listlessly into her notebook. It was something that she did unconsciously as her mind wandered into an incoherent, almost-dreamlike state. Voices, objects, people--they all faded into the background. Shinji would be waiting for her at home. The same old non-offensive Shinji, a caring and honest friend, one who never held grudges, and one who never wished ill upon another.

Thus, she fed herself delusions in her misery. Unfortunately, that was perhaps the only outlet for her emotions that day. Touji, who had apparently heard the entire "incident" over the phone, made no attempt to talk to her about it. He didn't even inquire about Shinji's absence that day. Kensuke and Hikari asked about him, but they didn't press any further when Asuka fibbed and said that he was sick for the day. By all accounts, it seemed like Kensuke, Hikari, and Rei didn't know about her outburst of violence and went through the day acting as if nothing was truly out of the ordinary. As for Touji, he seemed to show tact for once and avoided the painful subject completely.

Oh how appearances were deceiving. The fact is that they all knew. After Touji was witness to Shinji's savage beating, he called up Kensuke and spilled it all. Touji was never one to keep secrets from his closest friends. Kensuke then called Rei, who was appropriately puzzled by this bizarre turn of events, almost tiring the boy out with question after question with regards to the veracity of the accusation. Eventually, however, she came to the conclusion that what Asuka had done was horrifying, cruel, and repugnant. Touji's next move was to call Hikari, who found the story unbelievable and initially denied it. To this, Touji simply told her to see Shinji's injuries tomorrow at school. Over the course of the night, Rei called Touji to corroborate the facts, Kensuke called Hikari, Hikari called Rei, and Touji called Kensuke once again. No attempt was made to contact the Katsuragi residence, as they all felt a certain degree of apprehension and fear about confronting Asuka with the facts. The final call between Touji and Kensuke was particular interest, for that was when the discussion passed from the realm of mere description to the realm of prescription.

"She can't get away with this," Kensuke had said. "She's my friend and all, but so's Shinji."

"It just ain't right. What should we do?"

"We have to teach her a lesson."

And out of this a plan was hatched. Mind you, it wasn't a complex plan or even a halfway intelligent one. No, it was something that only the "stooges," as Asuka used to call them, were capable of concocting, a completely asinine plot that really had no point other than that of simple retribution. Kensuke's inept rationalizations told him that pulling a prank on Asuka would serve to push her towards apologizing to Shinji and bring about a quick resolution. He managed to convince Touji of the validity of the plan easily enough--Rei too, for she knew little of human emotions and was easily swayed by such seemingly-logical words. Wouldn't it be their duty as friends to make sure that Asuka learns to refrain from such violence in the future? It's for her own good. If one considers their little circle of friends a community, would there not be a natural need to regulate and police it? As Rei gathered from her limited knowledge of human law, punishments served as deterrents.

Of course, this little conspirators' circle would not have been complete without Hikari. She acquiesced the following day at school when she noticed Shinji's conspicuous absence, at which point she feared for the worst, taking for truth everything Kensuke and Touji had told her. That afternoon, for the end-of-day cleanup duties, she gave Rei the task of collecting the copies of the English novel everyone had read for class. It was some insipid paperback tripe--Harry Potter something or another--but it nonetheless was more than sufficient for language instruction. These books were the school's, and now, since the students were done with them, they needed to be gathered up and packed away in the supply room. Naturally, Rei was the prime choice for this sort of task, for she never once complained, even when the task was somewhat beyond the capabilities of her meager frame. Today, though, she made sure she had help.

"Asuka?" asked Rei, gently prodding the girl's shoulder.

She looked up wearily, her coif of red hair looking more disheveled than usual. "What is it, Wondergirl?" Only last year Asuka delivered that epithet with derisive tones, but since then the term had lost its hard edge. Now it was just an amiable nickname.

"These books are heavy. I would appreciate aid."

Asuka got up slowly, picked up half the stack of books, and followed Rei out of the room. Hikari had timed this job to just minutes before the official end of the school day so that it was fairly certain the room would be cleared by the time the two girls returned. Rei would ensure that they would take their time getting back. And sure enough, ten minutes and one intentional fall later, Rei and Asuka returned to an empty room.

"Hmm, Hikari has neglected to place our names on the official duty roster. May I borrow your pen, Asuka?"

The girl nodded. For some odd reason Rei only brought pencils to school that day. It certainly struck her as odd, especially considering how much a stickler for routine Rei was. Asuka rummaged through the pockets of her briefcase that had been placed at the side of her desk with the top flap open. Nothing. What? She could have sworn she put her pen away there. She sat down at the desk and stuck her hand into it. Hmm, victory! Her pen was lying in the back of the desk's interior space. However, just as she rose to give Rei the pen, she heard a loud ripping noise. She turned, looked down, and stared at the seat in disbelief. A green cloth was clinging to the seat of the chair. At first, the reaction was one of pure shock, but then the realization slowly sunk in. The patch of cloth had been torn from the back of her skirt, and now her underwear was exposed for the world to see. Not knowing what to do next, she instinctively picked up her briefcase and tried to act calm. Something felt funny, though. Then she realized that her hand was stuck to the handle, and that no amount of force she could exert was sufficient to uncurl her fingers.

When passions run hot, one's ability to reason suffers. Such was the case with Asuka at this particular point in time. Her mind was racing through the list of potential suspects. Touji--he heard it all last night. Kensuke perhaps? Rei? No, not Rei, nor Hikari for that matter. Then again... But why would her friends do this to her? Goose. The single word welled up from the recesses of her mind and refused to be put down. Goose. Goose. Goose. Now she understood, or at least she believed she did. Oh ho, Shinji, you're not as spineless as you pretend to be. You're the one who put them up to it! she told herself. Enraged, she ran snarling out of the room, almost knocking over Rei in the process. "You're fucking dead, Shinji!"

-

Misato's blue Renault screeched to a stop at the lake's edge near the pier. It probably wasn't the best idea for her to go driving in such a state, but she felt even less confident about walking, especially in the bright midday sun. Even her dark visor wasn't completely sufficient to keep the hangover at bay. In any case, after circling the block around their house a few times without catching sight of the boy, she had made tracks for the water. Well, here she was.

Not caring that her car was double parked, she stumbled out of the car and called out to Mr. Ito.

The old man poked his head out the window to see a sloppily dressed woman standing by the roadside. "What can I do for you, lady?"

Misato lifted up her one-piece sunglass-visor and winced at the surge of pain induced by the boat rental's fresh, almost-reflective coat of white paint. Mentally, she kicked herself. Damnit, that wasn't such a good idea. The visor went back on almost as quickly as it was lifted.

"Ohhh," the old man said, nodding his head slowly in recognition. "Miss Katsuragi, right? You must be looking for Shinji, no? He's right out on the lake--there, there he is." He pointed to a small white rowboat about five or six hundred meters offshore.

From this distance, she couldn't tell if Shinji was in it or not, but one thing was for certain: the boat was adrift. A chill ran down the length of her body as she scrambled to the edge of the pier. "Heeeeyyyyy!!" she yelled while waving both arms frantically. When there was no response, a sense of desperation began to take her. She followed up with even more frenzied shouting, jumping, and waving. A few amused tourists, cameras in hand, watched the spectacle from a safe distance.

Thus occupied, Misato did not notice Mr. Ito walk up alongside her with a quizzical expression etched upon his wizened brow. Holding out a bullhorn, he told her, "You may want to use this, Miss."

"Uhh, thanks." This was the extent of Misato's somewhat dumbstruck reply. "Heeeeyyyyy!! Shinjiii!!!" she yelled once more, this time through the bullhorn. Her heart swelled with relief as she saw a black-haired boy poke his head up above the boat's rim, look about, and wave at the pier. Her mind put at ease, she smiled back warmly and motioned for Shinji to return to shore. As expected, the boy complied and started to row for the shore. Misato just sat down where she was with her feet dangling over the edge and took in the view.

New Tokyo-3 was to be a different type of city. It was to be a city of facades, a city that did not look the part. The most extensive construction so far had been underground, which when completed would be safely tucked away from view. The old cities had their parks, tiny squares of green in a seemingly endless concrete jungle, but for Tokyo-3, the attraction was the park. The surface settlement would retain its scenic resort town aesthetic. To this end, a number of provisions were enacted in order to preserve the environmental sanctity of the area. Many of them had to do with the lake and its use. Large motorboats were forbidden, as were floating homes and basically anything that could detract from the view. Fish had been introduced in limited numbers, but fishing itself was forbidden in order to reduce the lake's usage. The fish and the birds that fed upon them were there to give a semblance of an ecosystem to this once-lifeless construct.

At the very least, it made Misato want to look at the lake. The soft wind-blown waves, the glistening ripples, the birds circling lazily overhead--time seemed to dilate and lose coherence in such languid placidity. A wall of greenery ringed the lake, blocking line of sight and manufacturing a sense of serene seclusion right in the heart of the city. The sounds of Shinji's rowing drew nearer. Her gaze shifted to meet him; it was clear to her that the boy's body strained with each pull of the oars. No doubt he was feeling some degree of pain from his injuries, though the thought of that didn't bother her so much now. That could wait. The comfort of Shinji returning to her was enough for the moment. Misato was still sitting in the same position, absorbed by her empty contemplations, when Shinji arrived.

"So what were you doing out there?" she asked, not bothering to turn in greeting the boy approaching from behind.

"Nothing in particular."

Misato spun about and stood up. "Shinji, if you want to talk about... I want to know... I thought you... Argh, I'm not making much sense here, am I?"

Shinji's expression became sullen as he lowered his eyes to the pier.

"Let's go home, Shinji. We can talk on the way back."

The boy attempted a smile and turned around, heading for Misato's car. However, he was stopped in his tracks when the woman suddenly embraced him from behind. She whispered in a shaky voice tinged with emotion, "Don't you leave like that again. I thought you were going to..." Her grip tightened. It had been a long time since she had given him a hug like this, and...and--what the hell? She was actually enjoying this in more ways than those deemed appropriate.

"Ow, ow!"

"Oh, sorry."

In the distance, I snapped an ill-fated picture, chuckled, and went on my way.

-

Asuka came home later than usual that day because she had spent half an hour in the chem lab after school finding and then pouring acetone over her hand. The glue dissolved, but unfortunately the grievance did not. When she returned, she was still early enough so that Shinji and Misato were still out on their brief excursion. Their absence irked her even more. Unconsciously this confirmed a long-buried fear from her days as an EVA pilot--was Misato giving Shinji preferential treatment? This ember of discontent began to smolder, its insolent glow coloring her conscious thoughts. First, paranoia. Where were they? Did Shinji poison Misato's mind against her, and were they out there plotting revenge? She proceeded upstairs to her room but froze the moment her foot passed through the doorway. She hastily retracted it and poked her head in, cautiously eyeing the floor, ceiling, walls, and furniture for any visible signs of traps. When she was satisfied, she rushed in and quickly closed the door behind her. There she stood for several tense minutes before she could finally calm down, at which point she walked to her dresser and fished out an unholed skirt. She was just about to put it on when she heard a door open and laughter coming from downstairs.

Shinji and Misato arrived in relatively high spirits. On the car ride back, the boy had explained the entire situation: Touji's sister, the amulet, the seagull, the beating, everything. With all this out in the open, much of the tension of the morning had dissipated. Misato admitted that she thought Shinji was going to drown himself in the lake, a notion to which the boy responded with peals of laughter. Part of that laughter was directed internally, for a small part of him had actually held the seemingly absurd hope of seeing that accursed seagull again. For what purpose? That, he really didn't know--he wasn't exactly the type for retribution. As for Misato, she also pushed out her fears and worries with tremendous therapeutic power of laughter. How ridiculous she had been--there was no way her Shinji, her responsible, mature, and urbane Shinji Ikari, would do something so foolish.

Mid-route, Misato's thoughts had begun to drift to other, less humorous matters. There was guilt. She recalled those weeks in January when she had been bummed out over Kaji's death, when she blamed Shinji of all people. She didn't really mean it, but things better left unsaid did pop out conspicuously in her bouts of drunkenness. The thought disgusted her now. If Shinji hadn't been so patient with her--the kid was too nice. Then came the odd memory of the hug by the lakeside. What had possessed her in that moment? Had she been emotionally disturbed? Yes, that had to be it. Desperation? That too, she reluctantly acknowledged, for it had indeed been too long. Shinji was growing into a fine young man, though. Perhaps, she supposed, it was merely a momentary whim of nature, as it wasn't the first time such indecorous thoughts had presented themselves. I'm pathetic, she finally admitted, rationalizations be damned. And then she laughed.

It was this ironic laugh that she carried back into the house, and it was this laugh that had the effect of completely unnerving Asuka. To her, it was just further proof that Misato was in collusion with Shinji. Upon hearing footsteps ascending the stairs, she lifted up her bed sheets, leapt into bed, and pulled the sheets over her head in one swift motion. She tried to pretend to be asleep, but unfortunately the squeaking of the bed gave her away.

Misato tapped Asuka's door twice with her middle knuckle. "Asuka?"

No answer.

"Asuka, I know you're in there, so I'm coming in, all right?" She turned the doorknob and entered. The shades were pulled down, and the lights were off, which combined with the large tree outside the window made the room much darker than she had expected; it took a few seconds for her eyes to adjust. She sat down on the corner of the bed, next to the hump-shaped mound she assumed to be Asuka. She gave it a light jab with her forefinger.

The girl stirred and slowly pulled down the sheets so that her eyes were uncovered. "What do you want?" she asked.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Leave me alone."

"Look, you know and I know--"

"Go away; I don't want to talk about it."

"I'm not in the mood for playing games with you."

"Fine! You want to talk?" Asuka sat up abruptly and pointed at her discarded skirt with a trembling hand. "Let's talk about how that pervert put superglue on my chair and made me walk around with that all afternoon!"

The older woman pulled up the window blinds, took one look at the holed skirt, and felt the corners of her mouth begin to quiver. Within seconds she was trying with all her willpower to suppress the uncontrolled laughter poised to erupt. I really shouldn't be doing this, but it's just too damn funny, she told herself. When she had calmed down enough to speak, she attempted to smooth things over as best as she could, saying, "Ok, ok, you got him yesterday, he got you today, so why don't you call it even and make up? You two are best friends, aren't you? T'would be a shame to ruin your friendship over this."

Asuka just sat there motionless, staring at the wall without making a sound.

"The fact is that Shinji does more for this house than the two of us put together, and I do believe that we owe him some common courtesy. Ok, so you didn't get your present yesterday, but at least Shinji blew whatever money he had left in trying to buy you a replacement gift. He managed to lose it, but that's not the point. The point is that he tries. Hard. If anything, he is a gift worth more than any gift."

Still there was no response. Misato decided to change her approach.

"I will see to it that there will be peace in this house. I don't care what you did to him or what he did to you, or whatever one of you thinks the other is doing--I don't care. This ends here and now. I will call you for dinner." She then walked out, leaving Asuka to process what she had just heard.

Dinner passed without a fuss.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Action, reaction. What had started with the word "goose" was becoming a wedge between Tokyo-3's two most esteemed citizens. The good Major's efforts to maintain peace in her household in the midst of this unfortunate quarrel must be commended. The woman negotiated with her bosses for half-shifts for the next two weeks so as to be home before Shinji and Asuka came back from school. And under her careful watch, no further incidents occurred for the rest of the week—her two charges were by all appearances on peaceable terms.

Both teenagers, though, remained in a state of high agitation. In each other's presence, so as to not step on potential landmines of conversation, they took to habits of avoidance. For Asuka, it was homework. Even though homework for her was an utterly perfunctory affair, requiring less than a minute fraction of her obviously gifted intelligence, she began to spend more and more time doing it. Her mind was as sharp as ever, though, so she had to consume her time double-, triple-, and quadruple-checking her work. Shinji, on the other took to washing, be it his hands, his clothes, vegetables, and even himself in marathon baths. The two of them had reached a tacit truce. Thus, life went on in the Katsuragi household much like it had before. Other than these nervous habits and occasionally uneasy silences, a casual observer looking in on the Katsuragi household would have sense little out of the ordinary. The former pilots went to school, came home, and went about their routines. Shinji, in no way letting his injuries slow him down, continued to cook fantastic meals for his female housemates. Misato tried to help with the chores, but her relative inexperience was more often than not a hindrance.

Despite everything, the days were returning to normal, and the two ex-pilots' friends were doing much to ease the process along. On Tuesday, the 6th, Touji, Kensuke, Hikari, and Rei confronted Asuka about the incident and their act of retribution. Though Asuka largely remained silent, she began to see that her actions were a bit outrageous. She was angry, no doubt, but this was not the same arrogant girl who had just arrived from Germany. With the EVAs gone and NERV defunct, she had begun to appreciate the more human things in life…like friends. In short order she was seen eating lunch with the class president and the stooges and fearfully punishing them on the soccer field during PE. Things were on the mend.

At around 11 a.m. on Wednesday, the 7th, a construction team ruptured a gas main half a kilometer from the school that Shinji and Asuka attended. The class had been waiting impatiently for lunch period while listening to the teacher drone on about the inauguration of the great Pacific War on this day, 75 years ago, when the principal entered, his brow dabbed with sweat. He walked straight to the teacher and exchanged some brief hushed tones, after which the teacher put on a great plastic smile, clapped his hands together, and announced, "All, right, class, school's out for the rest of the day. Please follow me and evacuate along pre-designated routes. In orderly fashion, if you may."

"What's going on?" asked Hikari, ever willing to be appraised of the situation.

The other students ignored her as they grabbed their bags, formed up into two rows, and marched towards the nearest exit. The halls were filled with students, all confused about the situation but ever unwilling to pass up an opportunity to skip school. Once outside, many of the students just headed straight for home. Touji, however, in an effort to impress Hikari with a display of boyish bravado, had decided to get to the bottom of things. And he struck gold. When he came sprinting back from the direction of the school to the rest of the coterie gathered on the roadside, he was grinning from ear to ear.

"Man! They really smashed up that gas main over there. You know what that means!"

Kensuke made finger-pistols and pointed them both at Touji. "No school, no exams!" Immediately both the stooges started jumping up and down, flapping their arms in the air, and screaming, "Banzai! Banzai! Banzai!" Hikari looked on with embarrassment as Shinji and Asuka quietly removed themselves from the scene. Rei observed with muted fascination and soon started mimicking these outlandish gestures. Up and down she went, even voicing monotone banzais of her own.

For our heroes the rest of the day passed without incident. Asuka and Shinji went home and watched TV. Misato arrived home shortly afterwards, surprised at their early discharge from school but nonetheless happy to her family safe and sound. Shinji, as he usually did, cooked dinner, and, afterwards, he dusted off his cello and serenaded his housemates with his superlative performance. There was a moment of tension, however. The boy had started off with lighthearted selections from Saint-Saens, but he had neglected to consider Asuka's Teutonic Francophobia, which led to the redhead turn up her nose and declaring that Saint-Saens was decadent enough to make her want to claw her eyes out. Shinji, being ever the conciliatory type, quickly remedied the situation by switching to variations on Brahms. And a good time was had by all.

The next day, it just so happened, was Misato's birthday--number 30 to be exact. The occasion was so monumentally dreadful that Misato herself had put it out of her mind. Her quarter-life crisis at age 20 was bad enough without adding another decade to it. She had barely celebrated her 29th the previous year, and this year she made a point not to publicize it. However, Shinji, being the urbane and conscientious boy that he was, could never forget the birthday of a dear friend and housemate. Therefore, without warning and to everyone's surprise, he told Misato at breakfast, with his head bowed in reverence, "Happy birthday, Misato. I know it isn't much, but seeing that I have no money left, this will have to do. Thank you for everything you've done for us."

At first, Misato didn't know how to react aside from the sinking recognition of the fact that, yes, she was indeed 30, but the boy's expression quickly won her over, and she positively basked in his selfless appreciation. As the older woman fawned on her Shinji, Asuka at the other side of the table wolfed down what remained of her breakfast and hastily excused herself, telling them that she had just remembered that she had promised to help Hikari with some boxes or something to that effect. It was obvious that she was going hunting for a last minute gift. The moment she was out the door, she was dashing to the bus stop to catch the next express to the commercial district on the other side of town.

Back in the house, Misato was feeing good, so good in fact that she called in sick. She was sure that Jin Arakakki, her hotheaded deputy, wouldn't mind; the guy positively lived for the moments when she would let him have command, and she needed a break, especially with everything in her life falling back into place, just as it was before. Turning 30 wasn't so bad with someone like Shinji around. Even in her most down and out moments he had been there to prop her up, to make her feel like she was worth something. With all the support that he had given her, her own hang-ups regarding her age seemed downright petty.

It is a great thing to spend one's birthday doing absolutely nothing of importance, and that was exactly what Misato had intended to do, had fate not intervened. In the early afternoon, she was roused from her television-induced stupor on the couch. Shinji had come in with the mail and apparently needed her for something. "Umm, Misato," the boy began with that hesitatingly polite tone that is probably by now known the world over. "This just came in the mail."

"Well, what is it?"

"They're two tickets to the grand opening of the Tokyo-3 concert hall. For some reason they were sent to our old apartment, so they didn't arrive until today."

"That's great, Shinji. You should take Asuka when she gets back."

"Well…"

"Well, what, Shinji?"

"They're playing _Symphonie Fantastique_."

"What is that, French?"

"And you know what she says about French Romantic Era music…. Anyway, we should ask Asuka when she gets back, but if she says no, would you go with me?"

"Ooh, romantic. Shinji, are you asking a woman out on a date on her birthday? My, my, my..."

The boy blushed under the woman's teasing and attempted to explain. "It's not really…it's like…umm…" He just gave up. Shinji's blush grew redder.

-

Poor Asuka. How the whims of fate conspired against her! Through no fault of her own, she had been caught without a gift for her bedraggled guardian. A humbler person might have just taken the lesson to be more observant in the future, but this was Asuka Langley Soryu. Her reputation could never live down such an embarrassment.

In retrospect, the embarrassment was probably not hers to feel. Misato was by nature a vain creature. The woman so feared the passing of time that she had neglected to mention her birthday to even her closest living companions. Shinji had only found out through the sheer accident of chancing upon a conversation between Misato and Doctor Ritsuko Akagi. Needless to say, that fact mattered little to Asuka as she was bolting across Tokyo-3. For all the time she had spent her childhood wanting to be treated as an adult, Asuka knew little about being one, and, for the life of her, she could not think of an appropriate gift for a woman of thirty years. Aside from alcohol and Shinji's cooking, Asuka's mind drew a complete blank when it came to tallying a list of Misato's favorite things. But such trifles never fazed the hero Asuka Langley Soryu, who had made mincemeat out of the most fearsome monsters ever encountered by mankind.

Asuka chased down the bus with such ferocity that she nearly threw up her lungs when she boarded. As she fumbled for change, she realized that she had left her mobile at home, but this was not the time for such trifling matters. Ignoring the frightened and concerned stares of the other passengers, she plopped down in an empty seat near the front and began plotting her next move. She had to do this quickly. She had to get this done and be back in the afternoon, because today was the day. If any animosity still existed between herself and Shinji, it would be vanquished and buried on this very day. The newly-formed Tokyo-3 Philharmonic was playing its first session in the new concert hall. It would be one of the great moments in the history of the city. She had caught wind of it months before, and, through certain discreet inquiries with contacts in the municipal administration, she had managed to secure two prime seats for herself and Shinji. It was the perfect opportunity to make amends and bury the hatchet once and for all. She could only imagine the joy Shinji would feel sitting in the front row of the balcony listening to whatever the orchestra would be playing. The music wasn't important. Asuka was puzzled, though. Despite all the assurances that she had gotten her name on the list, she had not received any tickets yet. But she was not concerned; she could always finesse her way in somehow.

The bus dropped her off right on a bustling intersection in Tokyo-3's shopping district. Rows of glittering store windows had replaced the drab barracks-like apartments that had served to house NERV's rank-and-file. Despite building ordnances that limited the height of city buildings, Asuka was nonetheless assailed from all sides by a dazzling array of sights and colors. There were the expected mannequins with their emaciated fashion items, but what dominated the downtown scene were the recently-installed streetside holo-projectors, broadcasting promotions of the latest technologies just over pedestrians' heads as they walked. Holographic monkeys beat on holographic drums as entertainment centers sparkled to life before the passerby. In front of one store, attractive, but tastefully dressed women were modeling various accessories fashioned after the Angels. Sachiel headgear and Zeruel handbags were just one way in which the people of Tokyo-3 were coming to terms with their past.

Asuka paid them no heed. There was no way a high schooler like her, even with the pittance of monetary compensation doled out by he NERV Survivors' Fund, could afford any of the products in this part of town. Her target was the secondary shopping district next to this one--still clean and well-kept but filled with pawn shops and discount outlets that were more appropriate for her price range. After getting disoriented amidst the throngs of humanity that inexorably swelled and ebbed in synergy with the traffic and wandering for the better part of half an hour, Asuka arrived at her destination. She immediately picked out the largest store on the block and went inside. Before the reader feels inclined to inquire about the specifics of the store in question, I can speak with certainty that it is now long gone, sold off upon the death of the sole, heirless proprietor, an old widow by the name of Yoshikari. Back in 2016 when it still existed, Mrs. Yoshikari's store dealt in rare collectibles, specializing in the ever-lucrative trade of pre-Second Impact artifacts.

In any case, Asuka perused and perused through mountains of items, of obscure brands and labels that had not been sold for ages. Even items from the old GDR found their way into this shop's dusty bins. Nothing caught her eye until she came across something that just screamed "perfect." It was a knife, a limited edition Yebisu pocketknife to be precise, with a laminated hardwood handle adorned with an engraving of the lame god himself gleefully fishing. Though Misato had cut back quite a bit on her beer intake, Yebisu was still Misato's drink of choice. Asuka unfolded it, running her thumb gently across the well-crafted curving blade, she knew instantly that this was the gift. This knife was perfect. It even came with a bottle opener, a corkscrew, and a compass—what a lucky find.

With knife in hand, the girl went to the counter, where the matron Yoshikari, eyes squinting with a prescription a few years out of date, scrunched up her nose. "That'll be 6000 yen," she muttered.

Asuka reached into her wallet and withdrew a silver foiled credit card, but before she could lay it on the table, the proprietor waved a finger at her and told her sternly, "I don't take credit from minors."

"But—"

"No buts. Been my rule for forty years, and I ain't going to break it today."

"But I have a bank account. I have money!"

"Cash. Only." The woman narrowed her eyes and targeted Asuka with a piercing gaze.

As a rule, old ladies aren't much in the way of intimidation, but this one sent a shiver down the girl's spine. The wallet fumbled in her hands. "F-fine, I'll give you the money," Asuka spat out. She would only have to put up with this annoyance for a little while longer. At least, that's what she thought. When she had counted up her bills and coins, it took a few moments for her mind to register the fact that she was a thousand yen short. She would have to go to an ATM, but, since there weren't any in these parts, she'd have to head downtown again. More wasted time that she could ill afford. It was already one and the clock was ticking. In a pinch, her mind reacted the only way it knew how. "Do you have any idea who I am?" Asuka exclaimed, swelling with pride.

The old woman blinked once and snorted nonchalantly. There wasn't a soul in Tokyo-3 who didn't know that face and that hair.

"I put my life on the line for this city, for all of you. The least you could do is give me this one favor. It's really really really important!"

"No money, no deal."

"I'll pay you back the difference, I swear!"

The only response came in the form of Mrs. Yoshikari snatching up the knife and dropping it in a drawer, in one swift motion closing and locking it. Asuka exploded. She slammed her palms on the counter and was prepared to show the old woman just why she was nicknamed a demon. But before she could vent her rage, she saw in the corner of her eye those who would be her saviors. Outside, strolling with idiotic grins plastered on their youthful faces, were the so-called stooges Touji and Kensuke. In a flash, Asuka was charging out the door yelling for the two boys to wait.

Touji was so startled he nearly dropped what he was carrying. "Be careful!" Kensuke shouted.

"O'ey Asuka," Touji greeted while ignoring his companion. The boy was fully laden, with a tripod under one arm and one of those professional video cameras used in news production in the other. It was obvious that Touji was playing pack mule for his friend, who would have probably ended up with a strained back had he tried to carry it himself.

"Guys, I need your help. Let me borrow a thousand yen. It's for Misato's birthday present."

Touji and Kensuke stared at each other. "Misato's birthday? When is it?" asked Kensuke.

"Today."

"Today? How come I didn't hear about it?"

"I just found out today. Why do you think I'm out here buying a gift? C'mon, guys, I just need a thousand yen. The stupid hag in there won't take credit."

Without further ado, Kensuke fished his wallet from his jacket and handed the girl the requested bill. Asuka took off without a word and headed back into the store. She emerged moments later beaming a smile with her arms raised in a gigantic V. A bounce was evident in her step—things were definitely beginning to go her way. She hurried back to her friends, who were still waiting in place, still a little dumbstruck by this new development.

"Shit, it's her birthday, man, we need to do something!"

"If you're going shopping again, you're gonna have to carry because I don't know how long I can keep lugging this junk."

"Hey, don't call it junk. It's the stuff of dreams!"

"Umm, Guys," Asuka inserted into the conversation, "You really saved me today."

"Whadya get?"

"It's a Yebisu knife!" Asuka brandished her prize proudly before feeling a bit sheepish over the fact that she was holding it up in the presence of Kensuke's professional news cam. She promptly put it back in her pocket. "When'd you get that?" she inquired about the camera.

"We picked it up slightly used and discounted this morning. It's a beauty, isn't it?"

"You try it out yet?"

"Oh did we ever! Man, they hauled some dead dude out from the tunnels, and we shot on scene. Kensuke had his notebook out and I had this camera up on my shoulder like this. They must'a taken us for real reporters or reporters-in-training or something!"

"You guys are morbid." Asuka unleashed a string of obscenities in German, though the intent behind the words was not venomous, and the three of them ended up with lightened moods. After some more small talk, Asuka wanted to take her leave, for she resolved to return as soon as possible to prepare herself and Shinji for the concert. However, Kensuke grumbled, and he was not assuaged by Asuka's explanation that it was Misato's 30th. After some bickering back and forth, the two present "stooges" managed to drag the girl for another round of shopping, this time to a local department store. Fortunately, that did not take long, for Kensuke zeroed in on a gift quite fitting for his particular sensibilities: an electric knife sharpening kit. Though Asuka protested at first, Kensuke reminded her that the ex-Major had been a soldier and obviously wasn't averse to sharp pointy things. And besides, with the amount of cooking Shinji did, it would be a matter of time before the kitchen knives would need to be reground. Pressed for time, Asuka was not one to argue, so she took the gift and headed back.

She arrived at the bus stop the moment the bus closed its doors and lurched into the street. There was no use chasing it at this busy intersection, and it was going to be at least another half hour before another one was going to arrive. The girl glanced at her watch. It was nearly two-thirty; there was hardly any time to waste, especially when the circuitous bus route would take an hour by itself. Asuka therefore made a fateful decision. She'd skip the bus and take the monorail—more expensive, but definitely faster.

Despite being the flagship of Tokyo-3's metropolitan transportation service, the monorail at the time had a questionable reputation. The construction was hurried, marred with accidents, and egregiously over budget. As a result, in order to defray the excessive development costs, fares were kept high. Tokyo-3's new citizens generally avoided it as an informal boycott of what they regarded as an ill-conceived waste of money. However, Asuka now depended upon it. And it failed her.

Not ten minutes into the journey, the train skidded to a stop, all power lost and stuck six stories in the air. More than an hour passed before help finally arrived, and all the while Asuka was biting her nails over the fact that she had forgotten her mobile. The girl was not about to ask the handful of sleazy-looking middle-aged businessmen sharing the cabin with her for a phone. So she waited. The technicians of the transit authority did their utmost to resolve this crisis, but it was to no avail, and they had to send for equipment from nearby construction sites to lower the passengers to ground level while the system was being overhauled. A subsequent inquiry into the matter revealed an almost catastrophic negligence on the part of the builders, including a number of cover-ups that disguised fundamental flaws in the design. That said, after the reforms of '19 the Tokyo-3 monorail became the model of exemplary service. But that would have been little comfort to Asuka, forced back on foot again trudging to the nearest bus stop. It was already well past four.

It was then that she saw it. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of what she recognized as Misato's blue Renault. At first she dismissed it as just another car of the same model, but then she saw just who was at the wheel and who was in the passenger seat. Misato and Shinji? Had they heard about the accident? Had they come to find her? She felt a tear go to her eye as she thought of just how close the three of them were. Yes, this was it. She jumped to the edge of the sidewalk and waved her arms frantically. They would see her. There was no way they couldn't see her. The car approached and slowed. And then it made a left turn and disappeared.

Asuka went home in defeat. Having lost sight of Misato's car, there was nowhere else she could go. She boarded the bus and put on an expression so morose and detached that people instinctively flinched and averted their gaze. Blaming no one but herself, the girl swam in her misery. If only she had been quicker, she thought to herself. If only she hadn't gotten sidetracked by the stooges and gone on that accursed monorail. If only those thoughts went further. With the weight of habit and character, it was only a matter of time before her self-criticism changed to lashing out. She hated them. She hated the Kensuke and Touji, those ignoramuses whose duty in life was to pester her with useless bullshit. She hated the transit authority for screwing up the monorail, and her lips curled into a demonic grin as she imagined her hands squeezing the life from the throat of that old hag in the store. A toddler started crying in fright, and her mother quickly hid her face with a newspaper.

The rag in question was none other than the _Lakeside Mirror_, a regional tabloid that sustained itself on celebrity gossip in and around the city. A few readers may immediately recall the author's connection to that paper. Indeed, that was where I cut my journalistic teeth, so to speak, and it would not be my place to denounce the first employer to give me a chance. However, I must stress that I worked only as a temporary photographer and had no input into the content or editorial process. My reaction was none other than complete surprise when I saw that my photograph of Misato and Shinji embracing on the pier had been front paged. It had been a throwaway shot, a bit of sentimental fancy used to fill out a roll of film. I had not even intended to submit it to the editor, who had assigned me to get candid photographs of actress Yoko Fujiwara, but due to carelessness I had neglected to take it out of the stack.

To cut a long story short, the _Mirror_ ran my photograph with an obviously fake story that was headlined "Shinji Ikari and Misato Katsuragi Caught in Lovers' Tryst!" Asuka caught a glimpse of the paper as it shielded mother and child, and she was instantly transfixed. In her emotional state, this piece of "news" appeared to her as the missing piece of the puzzle. Could that have been what the two of them were doing? With her gone, could her guardian have been seizing the opportunity to fool around with Shinji? Could that old woman be giving herself the ultimate birthday present? And were they on a dinner date? The only answers that rang in her head were yes, yes, and yes. The thought made her blood boil. She was going to get to the bottom of this.

The first thing she did when she went home to turn Misato's room upside down. All caution to the wind, she ransacked the woman's closet and rifled through the papers littered over her desk. She was possessed with a fury and desperation. Each passing second, the fleeting image of Misato and Shinji driving down the road taunted her, threatening her with the ignominy of inferiority. Her search had turned up fruitless aside from a meager porn stash that by all accounts did not point towards any unnatural predilections. She was unfazed, however, and turned her attention to Misato's laptop. Despite being rather unskilled in hacking, Asuka nonetheless possessed a sharp intuition with machines that enabled her to make some progress, but before she could start digging through the files, the phone rang.

Instead of answering it, she headed downstairs to listen in as the answering machine took the call. In a grainy tone interspersed with crackles of interference, Misato's voice came through. "Oh hey, hello? I guess you're not home yet. I must have forgotten to leave a note, but if you hear this, Asuka, I hope you're back. Shinji left dinner in the fridge for you, and, really, don't stress yourself out about my birthday."

Upon hearing this, Asuka's heart momentarily softened, and she tentatively reached out to pick the phone up, but the next sentence balled her hand into a fist. "Shinji and I are at the concert hall right now," Misato said. "They're having a grand opening today, and I thought that maybe I could do something that Shinji likes to do. Be back at nine and take care. Later."

Misato hung up. The fist crashed into the wall. "That bitch!!!"

How could she have not seen this? she cursed herself. It must have been that hag's plan all along, she reasoned. That woman's sense of classical music—well, Misato wouldn't be caught dead at a classical concert. Her sense of classical music began and ended with the atrocious samples ripped for whatever pop rock rubbish was trendy in any given year. It was then that her speculation and fear turned to certainty. There was a conspiracy against her. Yes, Misato was trying to push her out of the picture. The dirty old woman was trying to make the boy her boy toy, and as she was usually the one to check the mail, it must have been her who stole the tickets. Though Asuka wasn't sure what her relationship with Shinji was, she was not about to let this insult to her very dignity pass.

The walls shook with the sounds of fists cracking on hard plaster.

-

An edifying experience was how Misato would have described that night. She had gone to the concert thinking of herself as a replacement for Asuka and with modicum of curiosity for the new experience, but she had not anticipated just how deeply she had been touched by the music. She had gone in a philistine and come out with a new appreciation for art. Indeed, the tentative and effervescent notes of the opening passages did not challenge her preconceptions of classical music, which she had hitherto regarded as simply pleasant ambience. However, as the theme slowly coalesced, rolling with quiet woodwinds and seemingly listless strings, she found herself at attention. Abruptly changing, soaring tempos and the staccato blasts of the brass brought her to the edge of her seat. She was drawn in so completely that while the orchestra was playing, she forgot everything else. Mesmerized by the synchronized and undulating movements of the orchestra, Misato found her heart riding with the music. For her, the artist and his beloved who were the central theme of the symphony, came to life. She was dragged along into fits of frenetic passion and rage as well as the depths of fear and melancholy. The final descent into madness shook her to the core. Amidst the pealing of funeral bells, the thundering of basses, and the mocking perversion of the idée fixé, the instruments seemed to take on a haunting, otherworldly air. Musing to herself, she wondered if Shinji would swap his SDAT in favor of a stereo in the future.

On the way home, Misato found herself whistling from the piece. Shinji sat in the passenger seat quietly, and though they did not say much to one another, it was apparent that they had enjoyed the evening together. For the first time in a while, Misato felt truly at ease. Worldly concerns faded, and for a time all that mattered to her was the time she was spending with Shinji. It was the best birthday she could remember.

The snap back to reality came abruptly and harshly. Misato's high spirits came tumbling to the earth the moment she opened the door to her house. Inside, Asuka was at the dining table sniffling with a box of tissues while two suits, a man and a woman, sat across from her scribbling notes on digital pads. At the sound of the door opening, Asuka turned to face Misato with her bloodshot eyes and runny nose. The girl flew at her guardian, but tripped and fell face-first onto the floor. "You bitch!" she bawled as she went down.

"Wait, wait, wait, what's going on?"

"You bitch! You killed him you killed him you killed him!"

The woman officer went to the floor and tried to comfort the girl, but Asuka rudely threw her off and ran up the stairs, loudly slamming her bedroom door. Misato and Shinji both were still dumbstruck at this turn of events, and they stared at the strange newcomers nervously. Shinji was noticeably cowering behind his the taller figure of his guardian. To break the ice, the suits introduced themselves.

"I'm Agent Kazuma, and this is Agent Hoshina. We're from Federal Security working with local Tokyo-3 police, and we have some questions to ask you, to ask you both." They produced their badges.

"Am I being accused of something?"

"Forgive Miss Soryu's behavior. She didn't take it well, to say the least. No, it's just a matter concerning NERV that has been reopened."

"Re-opened?"

"Yes, this morning construction crews working on the new subway line found a body. At first we thought it was just some random homeless guy, but it turns out that it's Kaji Ryoji. The Kaji Ryoji."

"Kaji." Misato silently mouthed his name. She stumbled into a chair, the strength gone from her legs. Though she had known of Kaji's death for quite some time, it was a wound that was difficult to close. Tears welled up in the corners of her eyes no matter how hard she tried to hold them back.

Agent Kazuma gave his partner a look that seemed to say, "Jeez, not another one." He rocked his head to one side, and Hoshina knew the drill. She quietly led Shinji to the kitchen, and they began their respective interrogations. This news of Kaji's corpse was a horrific conclusion to an otherwise splendid day.

Shinji's questioning ended early; he headed upstairs under his guardian's reassurance. He tried to say a few words to Asuka, but the girl had locked her door and was either asleep or intentionally non-responsive. Thus, he gave up and went to bed. It was past midnight by the time the agents were done with Misato. After they left, she reached for her sake bottle and drank herself to sleep.

********

AN: I've been stunned by the number of reads that the EVA section is getting. In less than 24 hours, _The Quarrel_ has increased its total hit count by more than 50%. A number of you have expressed interest in where this is going, and I have to say that it's halfway done. It will likely end up seven chapters like the original story, perhaps eight if I am feeling verbose. It's going to be a roller coaster...when I get the time to actually work on it. In the meantime, please read & review and do feel free to peruse my other fiction.


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